Late Night Adventure
by CharmingWords23
Summary: After a series of unfortunate events, Chuck and Blair find themselves stranded in Wal-Mart in the middle of the night. How will they respond to such different surroundings than they're used to? Fluffy Two-Shot.
1. Part 1

Author's Note: After watching the finale last week, I decided I was in need of some lighter Chuck and Blair, so I wrote this. I originally intended it to be a oneshot, but it got to be too long (I can't control myself) so I am splitting it into two. The second part is finished (and almost twice as long) but I still need to look over it and make corrections - so I'll post it in a day or two. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it. This is my first Gossip Girl fanfic and I would really appreciate any feedback you all may have!

For the record, I have nothing against Wal-Mart (Although, I'm not going to lie, I do prefer Target). Anything negative said about it in this story is only stated because it's from Chuck and Blair's point of view.

This story is rated M for language and very suggestive situations. ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own Wal-Mart or any of the characters of Gossip Girl.

**Late Night Adventure**

Part One

"You made a fool out of both of us. You know that, don't you?" Chuck Bass said in annoyance as he leaned his head back to rest against the warm leather coated seat of his limousine, his arms crossed stubbornly.

Bair rolled her eyes. "Oh please, she had it coming," she scoffed. She was seated next to Chuck, one hand resting on her knee, the other wrapped firmly around the glass of champagne she had poured herself.

"Maybe so, but I hardly think calling the mayor's wife a 'desperate floozy' was appropriate. The entire board of directors was there as well as everyone who's anyone on the zoning commission. You know how essential it is that I get their approval to acquire that old building in Brooklyn," Chuck huffed. He had thought a nice evening out would be fun for the both of them, especially since she always loved an upscale party – but he had been wrong.

"Brooklyn, ew. It's not as if you weren't thinking the same thing about Mr. VanHanson. I saw all of the threatening looks you gave him. You, Chuck Bass, are completely transparent," Blair retorted.

"That was completely different!" He defended himself angrily. "He's going on his fiftieth birthday; you'd think he could find something better to do than ogle you all night. I should have had him escorted out after the salad incident. Old men who want to take a Viagra every time they look at my girlfriend deserve threatening stares."

"Just like disgusting cougars who find it entertaining to flirt with my boyfriend all night deserve a piece of my mind," Blair huffed as she took another sip of her champagne. To her dismay, the limo hit a pothole and caused a small splash of the clear liquid to spill over onto the light green fabric of her dress. She glared first at the little round stain it was creating, and then at the front of the limo where, if looks could kill, the driver would be dead.

"Jesus Christ," Chuck swore in annoyance before pressing the intercom button. "Excuse me, can you please try and avoid the potholes that are the size of Australia?" He never should have allowed Arthur to take a week off for his family vacation. Clearly this replacement had no idea how to drive a car.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bass," the young man said with a heavy accent that resembled Dorota's. "I will be more careful."

"Thank you," Chuck responded shortly before turning his attention back to Blair. "Since when does harmless flirting garner public humiliation?"

"Why are you defending her?" Blair all but shrieked. Chuck sighed in exasperation. "That was _not_ harmless flirting. Winking or batting eyelashes is harmless. Constantly touching your shoulder and shaking my hand as though she was trying to juice an orange is not harmless! I'm just now starting to gain feeling!"

Chuck took her "injured" hand in his own, softly rubbing circles on the top of it with his thumb. Blair tried to ignore the warm feeling that spread through her body at his touch. She was mad at him – he had practically encouraged that woman all night. "I'm sure she was just used to shaking the hands of men," he drawled. "And while she did come across as a little forward, I think causing a scene was highly unnecessary."

Blair groaned in frustration. Just then, the limo hit another pothole and Blair found herself being jerked to the side and ramming into Chuck, her champagne glass slipping from her grasp and shattering on the floor. Chuck grasped Blair's leg with one hand and the door handle with the other as the car skidded to a halt.

Already angry from his argument with Blair, a livid Chuck reached over to press the intercom button. Before he could reach it, the tinted window between the driver and passengers began to roll down and Blair felt herself grabbing Chuck's hand to restrain him from strangling the poor driver.

"My apologies Mr. Bass, Miss Waldorf," the man stated shakily. "You see, I have never driven these roads before and I know not that they in such bad conditions. It is very dark and there are no lights but my own –"

"_Clearly_ you've never driven these roads before," Chuck affirmed, irked. "Do you even have your license?"

"Chuck," Blair said softly to try and calm him down.

"I assure you, my driver's license is good. What not so good is the GPS. I have suspicion we have been going in circles." The driver seemed timid, almost afraid to share the last bit of information with his client.

Chuck was silent for a moment. "Circles? Bad roads, no lights, where the _fuck_ are we? Do you even know?" It was the driver's turn to stay silent. "Seriously?" Chuck shouted. "This night is a disaster!"

"Chuck," Blair said again, this time more forcefully. "Just calm down. We're all fine and I'm sure he'll figure out where we are and get us home very soon. Right?" She looked to the driver, expecting him to nod vigorously or at least agree with her statement. She didn't expect the look of apprehension on his face.

"I don't care when we get home," Chuck snapped. "My night was ruined before the goddamn pothole."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blair questioned defensively.

"You know what it means. I should have just gone to the dinner alone."

Blair felt a pang of hurt at his statement, but it quickly turned into anger. "How dare you! I did nothing you wouldn't have done if the situations were reversed you arrogant asshole!" The driver cleared his throat uncomfortably but was ignored. "Maybe it would be best if you ended the evening alone then, since apparently that's how you want it."

Chuck rolled his eyes dramatically. "If that's your way of telling me you're not sleeping over then fine. I could use a good night's rest anyway."

"What the _hell _is that supposed to mean?" she yelled, irate.

"You have been rolling around and kicking me in your sleep for the past week. I almost went to the guest bedroom last night," he answered matter-of-factly.

"I have not!"

"Yes, you have. It's a wonder _you_ can sleep through all the commotion you make. Pretty soon you'll be sleep talking and snoring on top of it."

"Get out!" Blair shrieked suddenly.

"Excuse me?" Chuck asked incredulously.

"I said get out! You said you wanted to be alone, well here you go. Have fun hitchhiking."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh I am." She leaned over him, pulled at the door handle, and pushed the door open. The driver looked on with widened eyes as Blair crossed her arms and dared Chuck with her eyes to stay in the car.

"Miss Waldorf, I –" She silenced him with a quick glare.

"This is my limo," Chuck stated bluntly.

Blair considered this for a moment. "Fine. Then I'll go."

"Blair." Chuck sighed in exasperation and ran his hand over his face. This night was turning out nowhere near the way he had imagined it.

Blair ignored his protests and climbed over him to exit the vehicle. When her heels clicked onto the pavement, she shut the door forcefully behind her – to make a statement. The driver hadn't been lying, it was very dark outside. The moon was covered by clouds and the only light she could see was coming from the headlights of the limo. She quickly retrieved her phone from her purse and pressed a button to give her a little light to work with.

The window of the limo rolled down and Chuck's slightly annoyed, slightly amused face, was staring back at her. "Blair, come on, get back in the limo."

"No," she replied stubbornly, crossing her arms and turning so her back was to him. "I don't want to ride with someone who doesn't want my company."

"You know that's not true," Chuck countered, irritated. "I'm sorry, please get back inside before you get lost or mauled by an animal."

Blair rolled her eyes. Although it was dark outside, she could tell there were no trees around, just a black expanse of nothingness on either side of the road. "Just leave, Chuck."

Annoyed, Chuck rolled up his window and turned to the driver. "I want you to drive about a hundred feet forward and then turn around so we can pick her up," he commanded. No matter how mad she made him, he would never be ok with leaving her stranded on the side of the road in the middle of the night.

"See, there's the problem, Mr. Bass," the driver started uncertainly. Chuck narrowed his eyes at the man. "When we hit pothole, one tire bust."

"Ok…well where's the spare? Aren't you trained on how to change a tire?"

"That was the spare tire, sir. I had problem few days ago when I pick Miss Waldorf up from school. A curb came out of nowhere and made tire go flat, so I changed to spare. Only now spare is flat."

Chuck pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course. Just when he thought the night couldn't get worse, his girlfriend had chosen to walk home to avoid riding with him and he was stranded in an unknown place with an immobile limo and an only partially fluent driver. "How soon can a replacement car pick us up?"

The driver looked down and seemed to be fidgeting with his hands. "That be other problem…the GPS does not work good. I do not know where we are for car to come."

Chuck stared at him incredulously. These limos didn't come with locators in them or something? He had no idea where the hell they were either, and it was pitch black outside so they had no way to identify their surroundings. Aggravated, Chuck opened the car door to tell Blair to get back in. She was standing with her back to him, texting someone. "Blair, we have a problem. Please get back in the limo."

"If this is about your blown tire, I already know," she quipped, turning around but keeping her eyes glued to the screen. "I saw it. You can just put the spare on."

"That won't work. And apparently we are going to have trouble sending for a replacement since no one knows where the hell we are."

This got Blair's attention and her head snapped up. "What do you mean no one knows where we are? Don't you know? You've been driving!" she yelled frantically as she poked her head inside the door to look at the driver.

"I'm sorry Miss Waldorf, but I am lost. I not from around here and my GPS no work right," the man stated apologetically.

"Then what are we supposed to do? Sit here on the side of the road all night?" Blair screeched.

"Isn't there somewhere nearby you could walk to to get help?" Chuck questioned the driver. This was ridiculous. He paid too much money for his limo service for shit like this to happen.

"Mr. Bass, it is procedure in times like these that I stay with the car no matter what. But-" Chuck and Blair looked at him expectantly. There must be an alternative to spending the night in a stranded limousine. "Well, I am not allowed to leave vehicle, but you are permitted to seek help."

Chuck and Blair just stared at him. "So you're saying if we want a chance of getting home before morning, we – your _clients_ – will have to go find help or at the very least figure out where we are?" Chuck asked evenly.

The driver laughed nervously. "Well, um, yes."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Blair wailed quietly. "It's one o'clock in the morning and darker than my onyx earrings outside."

"Miss Waldorf, I understand your concern, but you see, I believe we have been going in circles. If that be correct, shortly up the road should be a Wal-Mart."

"What's a 'Wal-Mart'?" Blair asked in distaste. It had been her experience that anything with the word "mart" in it was probably beneath her.

"It's some sort of discount store lower class people visit to buy cheap things. Like clothes," Chuck explained. He had never been in one himself, but he had heard many horror stories about it.

"Ew. Like Macy's?"

"No, Blair. Think cheaper."

Blair's face contorted in horror. She had never realized there was anything beneath Macy's. Surely the driver was only kidding.

"How far would you say we are from Wal-Mart?" Chuck asked, not doing a good job of hiding his disdain.

"My best guess is less than a mile, sir," the driver stated as he disappeared from the small window. He reappeared moments later with a flashlight. "If you go, you may take this." Chuck reached for the flashlight and opened the car door.

"Chuck," Blair stated forcefully. "You cannot be serious."

"I'm going to find this Wal-Mart, figure out where the fuck we are, call a replacement vehicle so I can get home, and then make sure Arthur is back by morning," Chuck responded, shooting a pointed look at the driver who looked to the ground nervously. "It would be better than sitting in here all night without any champagne to make it better." Blair tried to protest but he cut her off. "Are you coming with me? Or would you rather spend your night with _him_?" Another pointed look at the driver who was now feeling extremely uncomfortable under the young Bass's gaze.

Blair considered for a moment. The fact that there was no champagne to keep her company would most definitely factor into her decision. On any normal day, she would rather be with Chuck than some inept driver, but she was mad at him. Or at least, that's what she kept reminding herself. But she could still be mad at him if she kept him company, right? And that way she wouldn't be bored out of her mind sitting in this limo for hours on end.

"I'm coming," she stated finally, rolling her eyes at the childish smirk that made its way to Chuck's face. She exited the car and stood in the cool darkness while Chuck gave some last instructions to the driver about how to contact him if a replacement was found. Even in the pitch black she could tell her dress was ruined. She could feel a large wet stain from the spilled champagne originating at her stomach and spreading down into the pale green skirt of the dress. Perfect.

"Ready?" Chuck questioned as he turned the flashlight on and closed the limo door behind him. In the small amount of lighting there was, she could tell he was less than thrilled about their predicament. She nodded and they began their trek forward towards Wal-Mart.


	2. Part 2

Author's Note: So here's the second part, I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you so much to those of you who took the time to review the first part. It really does mean a lot to me. :) I would appreciate any comments you all have on this one. Did you like it? Was there something I could have done better? Let me know!

Disclaimer: I do not own Wal-Mart or any of the characters on Gossip Girl.

**Late Night Adventure**

Part Two

20 minutes later, after having been significantly slowed down by the darkness and Blair's high heels, Chuck and Blair could make out the lit blue and white sign that read "Wal-Mart" in the not so far distance.

"Finally!" Blair exclaimed. Her feet were killing her after walking the last mile, but her irritation at Chuck had subsided a little along the way. When she had shivered from the cool wind hitting her damp dress, Chuck had removed his suit jacket and offered it to her. It had been a peace offering of sorts and since then they had virtually forgotten their earlier argument. "Do you think they give foot massages there?"

He chuckled briefly. "I don't think so, Blair."

Blair sighed. She had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach about this "Wal-Mart." It was easy to tell just by the hideous fluorescent sign that she would not enjoy being there.

Once they got closer, both were surprised at the amount of cars that could be seen in the parking-lot. It was one in the morning but it looked almost as if the customers thought it was early afternoon. After dodging a few out of control carts, Chuck and Blair found themselves standing in front of the large automatic doors with the word 'entrance' stamped across the front of them.

"Chuck, why does it look like a warehouse in there? Is this some kind of headquarters for the mob?" Blair whispered, clutching her purse a little closer to her body.

"I don't think so…" But he couldn't be sure. It definitely looked unrefined in there. "Come on, we'll go in, ask someone where we are, and then call for a replacement car."

Blair nodded and grabbed his hand as they walked in to the building. She was immediately overwhelmed by the bright lights hanging from the ceiling, the cement flooring, and the loud combination of tacky music, cashiers ringing people out, and customers talking loudly. There were signs hanging from the ceiling everywhere reading "SALE" and "ROLLBACK!" and she couldn't help but be a little creeped out by the yellow smiley face that greeted her wherever she looked.

Chuck had similar thoughts as he scanned the surroundings looking for the nearest employee that could tell them where the hell they were. The massive size of the store (more accurately referred to as a warehouse, he decided) made it difficult to concentrate on any one thing. Two people with mullets passed right in front of them and he noticed Blair's look of revulsion out of the corner of his eye.

He pulled her hand and started walking towards the long row of twenty or so cash registers. They entered one without a line and found themselves talking to an older woman with stringy gray hair with a name tag that read "Marge."

"Hello Marge," Chuck greeted with his trademark charm. Blair waited silently behind him. She was hoping that if she didn't interact with anyone here, she could go back to being oblivious to the existence of such a horrid place. "My girlfriend and I are lost and we just need to know where to tell our car to come pick us up. Could you give us an address for this…uh…establishment?"

Marge smiled. "I don't know the address, sir. But you're in Valley Stream. I'm guessing you're not from around here?"

"No, ma'am. Thank you for your help." Chuck pulled out his phone to call the limo service and let them know where to send the replacement car. A moment later, he hung up, an almost pained expression on his face. "They said it will be close to an hour before they can get anyone here."

Blair groaned. "Do you have anywhere we can sit down?" she inquired of the woman. If she was going to be stuck here for an hour, there had better be a nice place for her to wait.

Marge looked at her curiously. "I'm sorry, we don't really have waiting rooms here. If your shoes are hurting you, you're welcome to take them off. People do it all the time."

Chuck couldn't hide the amused smirk that made its way to his face when Blair looked at the woman as though she had two heads. "I'll be fine," she managed to say before tugging on Chuck's hand and leading him away from the cashier. When they were well out of earshot, she whispered "Chuck! We're trapped here for an hour with insane people! Can you believe she suggested I walk around _barefoot_?" She didn't even attempt to hide the disgust in her voice.

"While I'm sure that would be a sight to see, I am glad you have more sense than that. You would probably contract some sort of disease from this place." The stories he had heard about Wal-Mart had not been embellished in the least. He was having difficulty understanding why anyone in their right mind would choose to shop there – in the middle of the night no less – as opposed to a respectable boutique such as Barney's. "We have an hour to waste before the car arrives. We might as well walk around. Maybe we'll find some more comfortable shoes for you to wear until we get home."

"Do you think they sell anything designer? I would love to get out of this damp dress," Blair stated as she looked down at her now ruined dress with disdain. It was such a shame. She had really liked it.

"I doubt it." Chuck looked towards the ceiling and spotted the hanging sign that read 'women's clothing.' Blair saw it too and they began walking towards it, dodging the random displays of two-liters and notebooks in the middle of the concrete isle ways. Blair frowned when she realized how small the section of clothing was. In the stores she was used to shopping at, that amount of space would be used just for the pajamas. Her eyes scanned around and she was dismayed to see no designer labels sticking out against the horrid patterns, bold colors, and large price stickers and sales signs.

"What about this 'Miley Cyrus' shirt?" Chuck offered innocently. When Blair turned to see what he had picked up, she saw the most heinous plaid blouse she had ever had the misfortune of seeing. He broke into a grin at the look on her face.

She decided to call his bluff and quickly rearranged her features into a more serene smile. "You know, that's not too bad. Let me see it." Chuck, trying to cover his shock, handed it over. She lifted the fabric to her face and smelled it. "It's really soft. I can imagine it would be wonderful to sleep in."

Chuck's jaw dropped slightly. Surely she wasn't serious? "I'm sure what you sleep in now is comfortable enough…" He trailed off. He would be kicking himself for eternity if she actually started wearing shirts like that to bed as opposed to the silky negligees he was used to seeing her in.

"You don't like it?" she asked innocently, holding it up in front of her body.

Chuck wasn't sure if there was a right answer to that question. "Well…"

"Chuck Bass, the next time you suggest such a hideous article of clothing I really will buy it and make sure it's the only thing you see me in for a week." Blair Waldorf didn't mess around when it came to shopping. Chuck smirked. Message received. "Help me find something that isn't completely embarrassing that I can wear until I get back," she continued, adding on a please at the end.

Chuck did as he was told and after a couple minutes of scanning the racks, Blair managed to find an _acceptable_ knee-length black knit dress, purchase it, and find the sign pointing to a fitting room to change in.

As she and Chuck approached the entrance to the changing room, Blair was appalled by its size and lack of classy designing – like couches and chandeliers. The lighting was so awful that she wasn't sure how anyone could even see what they were wearing. But then again, maybe that was a strategy of Wal-Mart.

As she crossed the threshold into the small room of smaller fitting rooms, she felt Chuck's hand leave her own. She turned around to stare at him. "What are you doing?"

"It's the women's fitting room, Blair. I hardly think it's appropriate for me to go in there with you," he stated evenly. In any other store, at any other time, and in any other situation, she would have agreed.

"Don't make me go in there alone!" she whispered, her voice raising an octave in panic. "There are probably bugs and diseases and creepy old men hiding in the corners!"

Chuck smirked again. "And what do you think I would do to help that situation?"

She groaned, grabbed his hand, and pulled him inside after here. There was no one else in the fitting room – it was one in the morning after all. While they were stuck in this hell-hole, she was going to make certain she didn't have to suffer alone.

Blair chose the largest room – the one reserved for the handicapped – and locked the door behind her and Chuck. While Chuck sat uncomfortably on the small white slab of plastic and wood that was supposed to pass for a seat, Blair made quick work of stripping out of her ruined cocktail dress and pulling the Wal-Mart dress over her head (it didn't even have a zipper). She looked at herself in the mirror and decided if Gossip Girl managed to get a picture of her in this state, she would personally hunt her down and make sure she could never use a computer keyboard again.

"Ok, I need you to lie to me and tell me this dress isn't as embarrassing as it seems," she said sullenly as she turned to face Chuck. She expected him to laugh at her or at the very least, smirk at how ridiculous she looked.

She didn't expect him to be staring at her like he wanted to have her for dinner. Confused, she look down at herself to make sure the dress wasn't caught in her underwear or something as Chuck stood up and took two steps to stand directly in front of her.

He put his hands on her shoulders and slowly ran them down her arms. "It's not embarrassing. You look ravishing."

Blair rolled her eyes but smiled. "Sometimes I love it that you are such a convincing liar."

His eyes dropped to her lips and then reconnected with hers. "I'm not lying." He smirked and leaned down to place a warm feather-light kiss on her exposed collarbone.

His tone set every vein in her body on fire and before she really gave it a second thought, her hands were pulling his face to hers. Their lips collided and Chuck pressed against her as she backed up against the locked door. Chuck eagerly returned the kiss, placing his hands on her hips and letting them slowly inch lower towards the hem of the short dress. She traced his lips with her tongue and he eagerly met hers with his own. Blair could feel him all around her and was desperate to get even closer to him. Her hands fisted in his shirt, un-tucking it from his suit pants. She was grateful that his suit jacket was folded neatly on the bench where she had left it when she changed – one less article of clothing separating them.

When Chuck's hands reached the edge of the cottony dress, he expertly slid them beneath the skirt and inched them up her thighs at a pace he knew would drive her crazy. As he did this, he removed his mouth from hers and trailed warm, wet kisses down to her neck. Her hands were making quick work of unbuttoning his blouse when his mouth hovered over what he knew to be the most sensitive spot on her neck. Her hands fisted into his shirt one again and she moaned softly. Chuck smirked against the soft skin of her neck; he loved having the power to make her lose control. As he continued to kiss across her neck and collarbone, she worked her hands up to run through his hair – then back down beneath his shirt to roam over his chest and back.

She closed her eyes and let the sensation of his hands and mouth on her take over. They were both beginning to breathe heavily and when he stilled his lips over a certain spot on the curvature between her neck and shoulder for a little too long, she took a shaky breath. "Chuck Bass, if you mark me right there before the gala tomorrow night, I'll make sure you –" she moaned as his hands rotated to her inner thighs. "Pay," she finished.

"Is that a promise?" he murmured seductively against her skin.

"More like a threat." She couldn't hide the faint smile that crept into her voice. Chuck took the opportunity to reclaim her mouth with his own. Her hands were driving him insane as they were now running in up and down his back.

His hands finally reached their destination and when his fingers began to gingerly lift the material of her panties, she let out an audible gasp followed quickly by a moan.

"Excuse me." Blair jumped as the foreign voice broke into her lustful haze and the door she was pressed against vibrated as someone beat on it three times from the outside. Chuck's hands stilled and his head bent down so his forehead was resting on her shoulder – clearly frustrated. "The dressing rooms are not hotel rooms!" the angry voice continued. "I suggest you get one if you want to continue what you're doing."

Chuck had the serious urge to tell the person to fuck off, but restrained when he saw the deer-in-headlights look Blair was giving him. _Fucking Wal-Mart_. Annoyed, he decided he couldn't even describe it like that since clearly there would be no fucking in Wal-Mart. _Fuckers_.

The person on the other side of the thin wall continued, "I'm going to go see if I'm needed at the registers, and when I get back, you two won't be here." There was no arguing with that.

They heard the heavy footsteps leaving the dressing room and Chuck instantly cursed to let out his frustration. When he saw that Blair was still looking at his as though she had never been more mortified he couldn't help the grin that spread to his face.

"Chuck! This is not funny!" she hissed, ignoring the way her words were contradicted by the smile she was sporting. "I don't think I've ever been more humiliated," she stated dramatically.

He laughed and kissed her forehead, his hands coming to rest on the sides of her neck. "It's just Wal-Mart," he assured her.

"If this shows up on Gossip Girl…"

"I'll personally make sure she is never able to use a computer keyboard again," he vowed with a smirk. She worried about the weirdest things. It's not like they'd never had sex in a public establishment before.

He was taken a bit off guard when she gave him a strange look and then quickly pecked his lips with her own. "What was that for?" he inquired, amused.

"I think we were made for each other, Bass," she declared as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands slid down to her waist.

"You might be right, Waldorf." He leaned in for another kiss but she stopped him.

"Uh uh. We need to get out of here before that crazy lady comes back and kills us. And you need to do something about your hair or everyone is going to know we were the ones in here." Chuck could only smirk as she rolled her eyes.

* * *

Twenty-five minutes later, approximately forty-six minutes into their Wal-Mart excursion and fourteen minutes from their estimated time of departure, Chuck and Blair were in search of a bathroom. They had made themselves presentable before leaving the dressing room – Blair straightening her dress and smoothing down her hair, Chuck buttoning up his shirt and readjusting his pants several times – and Chuck had decided he needed to use the rest room. Blair agreed that she could stand to freshen up so they had set out in search of a public wash room.

But Chuck had gotten sidetracked when they passed the electronics section. He had promptly decided that he needed a new camera. And a new blue ray player for the television in his bedroom. And the most expensive GPS in the store (he claimed he would carry it with him at all times so this would never happen again). When Blair questioned the necessity of the items, he responded by telling her if he was going to be stuck at Wal-Mart, he was at least going to go home with something to show for it.

After that, Blair had noticed a boxed set of classic Audrey Hepburn movies. Unable to pass it up, she purchased two of them – just in case. Then they had run across the shoe isle. After glancing over them, Blair had decided she couldn't even try any of them on because they were so ugly and that she would rather suffer walking around in her high heels until their car arrived.

And finally, they had reached the bathrooms. They had gone their separate ways and agreed to meet just outside the doors.

That's how Blair found herself staring at the tacky beige tile in the women's restroom. She had entered the room and immediately noted the stench – which was not the fresh potpourri or air freshener she was used to smelling in public restrooms. Her nose wrinkled in distaste and she recoiled when she noticed the disgusting fluorescent lighting and blow dryers for hands.

No way. She would just wait until she got home.

As she waited for Chuck outside the bathroom, she idly hoped he was doing something about his hair. He had refused to touch it after the fitting room incident – she knew he just liked to see her squirm. She didn't mind the fact that his shirt had remained un-tucked though.

"What's your name?"

Blair turned around at the sound of the slurred question and was surprised to see a man standing less than three feet away from her. He looked as if he could barely stand up straight and he reeked of alcohol and cigarettes.

"Uh…Blair?" she stammered, taken off guard. After saying it, she wondered if this was one of those situations where it would be better to use a fake name. She absently wondered if drunk men were patrons of the store only in the middle of the night, or if this was common all day long.

The man nodded in approval and reached out as though he was about to put his hand on her shoulder. Instinctively, she made a face and took a step back. Everything about the man, from his grease ball hair to his soiled 'Megadeth' tee shirt, was just ew. She figured he would take the hint and move on to someone else that would be more willing to buy him alcohol.

"You're really pretty, Blair," he assured her. Blair figured he probably wasn't aware that he was practically yelling. It was painfully obvious that he was past drunk and well on his way to completely wasted.

"Thanks," she replied curtly and looked down at her phone, pretending to have a text message to answer. Normally, she wouldn't be quite as outright rude. But she was already not in the most pleasant of moods and this creep was exacerbating matters. Where the hell was Chuck? She just wanted to get out of here.

"Tell me something Blair," the man demanded. "What was it like…" He seemed to lose his train of thought and then regain it a few seconds later – Blair was trying her best to block him out. "What was it like, growing up…and knowing you were so beautiful?"

Blair looked up at him with raised eyebrows. He had just passed from annoying drunk to full on creeper. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm not attracted to hobo," she said scathingly before looking back at her phone. Surely he would get the message now. She had spelled it out for him.

"Blair, did you see that they actually have blow dryers for –" Chuck stopped when he noticed a drunk, and clearly angry, man standing mere feet from his girlfriend. "Is there a problem?" he asked the man as he took a step to stand next to Blair, who put her phone back in her purse.

"Yeah, this bitch is about to get her ass kicked!" he slurred, pointing at Blair.

Blair's mouth opened in astonishment and Chuck's jaw tightened. He didn't appreciate it when people threatened those he cared about – especially Blair.

"I'm not sure what's going on here," Chuck began, narrowing his eyes at the man, "but I can assure you that's not going to happen. I suggest you leave us alone or I'll find security and make sure you're thrown out."

The man laughed. He bent over and slapped his knees a few times for good measure. Blair was sure this reaction had to do with the copious amounts of alcohol in his body. "I ain't never heard of a Wal-Mart with a security guard!" he choked out.

Of course Wal-Mart wouldn't have security guards. It wasn't exactly in SoHo. Not deterred in the slightest, Chuck decided on a new approach. "Fine. I'll do it myself if I have to."

The drunk man stopped laughing and stared at Chuck as though sizing him up. Chuck didn't seem to be bothered, but Blair was becoming increasingly nervous. She had no doubt in her mind that punches would be thrown if the situation escalated. And under no circumstances would she allow Chuck to get himself a black eye because some annoying drunk man decided she was pretty.

"Chuck, let's just go," she said calmly, placing a hand on his arm.

"Yeah _Chuck_," the man mocked as he stumbled to the side a little bit, "do what your whore tells you."

"Shut the fuck up," Chuck snapped angrily. Blair began to tug at his arm, trying to pull him in the opposite direction. She didn't want a fight to break out because of her. Although she was starting to think the man would pass out before it came to that. He was currently swaying from side to side. What sort of drunk man went to a Wal-Mart in the middle of the night to find women? And what sort of self-respecting woman would give him the time of day? Blair couldn't fathom it.

"Whatever man." The man held up his hands in surrender. "Take your ugly ass bowtie and your fat ass girlfriend and get out of here."

"Chuck!" Blair cried as she did her best to restrain a now irate Chuck. Although the man's comments didn't really upset her, as soon as they were said she knew Chuck would be angry. She had explained to him that her Bulimia was never _really_ about losing weight per se, but he still became incredibly defensive when anyone said anything negative about her appearance – which was rare. "Let's just go wait outside," she urged.

Relenting, Chuck regained his composure.

"And you," Blair said, turning towards the rude drunk man and opening her purse. "You take this and go get yourself some more to drink." She handed his a fifty dollar bill and he looked from the green bill to her.

"Thank you ma'am," he slurred warmly, all animosity forgotten. Chuck rolled his eyes. He could have taken that guy easily.

Turning back to Chuck, Blair grabbed his hand and started to pull him in the direction opposite of the bathrooms. Chuck flipped the drunk man off, then followed her.

"You shouldn't have let him get you so riled up," she scolded lightly as she hooked her arm through his. Secretly she hoped he would never stop being a little protective of her. It always reminded her how much he loved her.

"I'm sorry that a drunken man threatening and insulting my girlfriend and myself makes me want to cause a scene. I can't help it," he responded easily, her close proximity melting the tension from his body.

"So you're allowed to cause a scene if you feel threatened, but I'm not?" she teased.

"What are you talking about?"

"Earlier," she clarified, "you were angry at me for causing a scene when I told off the mayor's wife." Chuck sighed in understanding and she continued. "I'm sorry that I upset you, but I couldn't help my reaction any more than you could just now."

"That was a completely different situation –"

"I'm trying to apologize, Chuck," she said firmly and he shut his mouth. "Like I was saying, I'm sorry that I embarrassed you, but you need to know that I would do it again. Someone needed to put that woman in her place and I happened to be the only one brave enough to do it."

"I understand," Chuck said evenly. "I can't deny that I would have done the same thing, although maybe without the 'floozy' part. I was really more upset with the fact that things didn't go as well as I had hoped with the zoning commission and I channeled that frustration to you. For that I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted." She stood up on her toes to kiss his check softly then laid her head on his shoulder as they continued following the signs to the exit - which were incredibly vague and confusing. It seemed like each sign had three different arrows pointing in different directions for the exit.

"And I'm sorry for acting like an asshole in the car. You didn't deserve that," Chuck stated.

"It wasn't exactly my finest moment either," Blair admitted. Then she continued, her voice a little softer, "I'm sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night. I've been really anxious about finals – you know I still have a B in economics even after your help – and I've had a few nightmares where I failed and my dreams of graduating with a perfect 4.0 were ruined, but I hadn't realized I was moving around so much."

"I shouldn't have brought it up, I know you can't control what you do when you sleep. And I'd much rather be woken up briefly during the night than have to wake up in the morning without you." He smiled sweetly as she looked up at him with a grin.

"Chuck Bass, does that mean I'm officially invited to stay the night again?"

"No matter what I say, you're always invited. And I'm hoping you do stay tonight because I need to punish you for teasing me earlier." Blair felt heat spread through her body at his words. Why couldn't they be home right now? Goddamn Wal-Mart.

Just then, Chuck's phone rang. Listening to only his end of the conversation, Blair could tell it was the limousine agency. She crossed her fingers that it was good news.

Moments later, Chuck hung up the phone and looked at her with a solemn expression.

"What is it? Are we stuck here for the night?" Blair panicked. "There's no way I'm staying here. I'll call Serena and make her come get us. She owes me after that catering fiasco last week!"

"Blair, it's ok, they said there's a car for us out front." He smiled.

Blair was silent for a second as she processed what he said. A grin slowly appeared on her face and she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank God!"

He chuckled at her response.

A few minutes later, after having a few Wal-Mart employees load their purchases into the limo, Chuck and Blair settled into the luxurious leather seats in the back of the elongated car. Both were sure they had never been in a more comfortable limo in their lives.

As the limo began to move and take them away from the large store and towards the Upper East Side, neither looked back. Instead, they looked at each other.

"Chuck," Blair said as she inched closer to him, her eyes looking from his lips to his eyes.

"Yes Blair?" Chuck leaned closer to her instinctively as though there was a magnetic pull between them.

"Let's not go there again." He nodded in agreement. She closed her eyes and his lips met hers. They both knew there was no way they would wait until they got home to finish what they started in the dressing room – possibly the best thing to come out of the night. After all, limos were their specialty.

When they recounted their experience to their friends the next day, they both agreed that it was one late night adventure they would not want to repeat.


End file.
